


Cosplay Girl Exploratory Hayate

by Rosencrantz14



Category: Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha | Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha
Genre: Gen, Star Trek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosencrantz14/pseuds/Rosencrantz14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nanoha having never suffered her grievous injury against the Gadget Drones, the chase for Jail Scaglietti never begins. The Brains, having decided the Aces have built up far too much political power, assign Hayate to an experimental vessel - the DXV Enterprise - to shunt her out of the spotlight. Her five year mission: To contain the threat of extrasolar Logia. To explore strange new worlds. To seek out intelligent life and alien civilizations. To boldly go where no mage has gone before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aboard the Skyward Sword

Trapped in a perpetual twilight, Hayate stared out an undersized window at the calm of a green sea - the same sea she had been staring at for the past two hours. They had herded her among hundreds of others aboard the vessel, and corralled them in pairs or quartets into cramped cells of bleached white graphene. Then they had been bound to chairs of insidious design - each attempt to sit more comfortably would only lead to increased irritation; a subtle torture, reminding the prisoners of their powerlessness. And powerless she was, for all her obscene mana throughput, her devices disabled and locked in their storage modes. Perhaps if she could find Zwei, she might have a chance to escape this terrible machine, but the minigirl AI was nowhere to be found.  
  
A quick check showed that Schwertkreuz could still record audio. Perhaps a trick, a ploy for her to divulge sensitive information on the TSAB.  
  
No matter. If she did nothing, she'd go mad in this place.  
  
"Captain's log," Hayate spoke into the cross-pendant, concealing it in her palm. "Stardate: 1729.8. I have been taken captive by a hostile alien species calling themselves the Midtsa. Schwertkreuz has been locked out of it's combat form, Reinforce is nowhere to be found, and they have strapped me to what I believe is some sort of torture device."  
  
"Major, that's not-" From the seat opposite her came the groggy voice of a man half asleep.  
  
"Addendum." She slapped her free hand over the man's mouth, knocking the hat away from his eyes and earning herself a glare. "My yeoman, Warrant Officer Griffith Lowran, also appears to have been captured. I pray the rest of my crew has not suffered the same fate." With a thought, her device flashes the time in golden light onto her retina. "It has been two hours, twenty three minutes, and forty three seconds since they brought us aboard their ship. By now, they will have finished loading the rest of their 'cargo', and must only be waiting for the ship to be refueled before embarking to the slave pins."  
  
"Major, spacelift's don't refuel." The purple haired man pulled her hand from his mouth. He was giving her that look, that same look he gave her when she tried to drag him off and dress him in one of the many 'New Old Country' outfits that she had designed for him - frilly yet masculine, like Thomas Jefferson, whoever that was. "They shoot a laser at a solar panel optimized for that wavelength."  
  
The magical girl looked up from her device, tossing her assistant a look that said 'nice catch' before taking herself back into a corner. "Interesting. Then perhaps some of the prisoners have revolted. It wouldn't be surprising, given these Midtsa's lack of respect for basic human dignity."  
  
Griffith rubbed his forehead in a mixture of frustration and annoyance. "They're not that bad."  
  
"Second Addendum:" Hayate's face spoke of shock and betrayal. If anything, she huddled deeper into the corner where seat met wall, turning herself away from the traitor. "My yeoman will have no part in the escape attempts. I fear that he may have been seduced by one of their agents - the so called 'flight attendants' - or worse." She stares at him suspiciously. "Brainwashed. The OIO treatment is a possibility."  
  
"It's not like Often in Orbit is expensive, Major." The WO sighed, and poked his device at a magazine. A holographic image of a refrigerator popped up and rotated about, showing him it's components and specifications. It wasn't skyball, but it was better than nothing. "It's a hundred credits. Once. Get's your clearances transferred from the TSAB to the MTSA. Never have to go through security again."  
  
"Third Addendum," Hayate whispered into the device. "My brainwashed subordinate has suggested that bribing the guards might improve transport conditions. I find this highly unlikely - for what purpose would these creatures require Mid-Childan currency." Her gaze narrowed, and a thought ran through her head. "Speculation: they plan to use this currency to fund their infiltrators in Bureau space. Update Mission Log as follows. Priority One: escape from vessel and warn Admiral Hammond of the possible foothold situation. Priority Two: castrate guard who violated personal space."  
  
Griffith's eyes never left the hologram - which was now showing off the assets of a high end sports car that he'd be able to afford never - when he chimed in. "As I recall, the guard was female. And _you_ were the one molesting _her_." He smiled fondly at the memory. "Thanks for that, by the way. I believe you classified her as a 'nine' - out of ten, right? I can't say I disagreed."  
  
Hayate gave him a look. Griffith switched the hologram to another luxury item he couldn't afford - this one a beach house on Zestos, a world of Islands orbiting a bit closer to a cooler star. Weather was always beautiful there, except when it wasn't.  
  
"Details," she huffed. "Fourth Addendum: Mental tampering is a distinct possibility. I don't forget a nine that easily."  
  
With a flick of Griffith's wrist, the beach house became a motorcycle - one that he could actually afford! The machine was sleek and minimalistic, yet almost predatory, like a silver liger striding across the savannahs of east Orussia. Put that one in the cart; his days of emasculation at the hands his commander's estrogen brigade were _finally_ at an end! "Are you going to be like this the entire trip, Major?" He clicked a button on his glasses - purchased, and will be in his garage by the time he gets back. "Someone might start believing you after two days..."  
  
Hayate gave the purp a flat glance. "Well, I'd be a lot less -" she made a gesture with her hands that suggested uncontrolled spinning, accompanied by a buzzing sound "- if they had gotten us off the ground already! I know each dock can only do one up a day, but you'd think they'd want to have the lifts to port and back again as soon as possible." Her arms crossed, and she looked out to the sea again, not quite pouting. "It wouldn't be so bad, if they didn't cut off worldnet access while they 'prepped for launch'."  
  
"The transmissions interfere with their equipment's calibrations, Major." Griffith had a motorcycle. He didn't need to take his CO's childishness anymore. The hologram continued to rotate, displaying every micrometer of his purchase's manliness.  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
"It's true," He closed his eyes and folded his arms in what Hayate had dubbed many year ago as 'Smartass Warrant Officer Maneuver Six'. His tone carried a hint a finality. "They did a study." He paused, and opened one of tis eyes. "Maybe now would be a good time to go over the file on sent you on your new command, Major."  
  
"Oh, I'd love to," Hayate twitched, "But I can't. You see, there's this lovely little thing called the worldnet, and it lets people like me - whose devices' local storage is filled with petabytes of spells and intelligence algorithms - to not have to download information that isn't classified."  
  
There was a great _lurch_ , and Hayate felt lucky that she was on the bottom side of the car, smushed into a lumpy chair instead of thrown against the straps like her most unfortunate subordinate. Outside the window, the waves and ocean began to get smaller and smaller until at last it became a flat plain of bluish green, dotted with fog and low flying clouds. A chime rang out in every cabin, followed by a crackling and a high pitched second of feedback before a man who sounded like he had swallowed a sponge began to speak.  
  
"This is the cabin speaking, and I'd like to welcome you all aboard the _Skyward Sword_. As you may have noticed, we're having some slight difficulties with the inertial dampeners, which will cause a one hour delay in arrival to account for reduced acceleration. We'll be reaching a maximum velocity of one thousand seven hundred kilometers per hour in approximately 48 minutes, and in twenty hours will come alongside the _Heaven Piercer_ for approximately fifteen minutes. We ask that at that time, you please remain seated with your seat belts fastened and tables floored. We will be arriving at Port Crannagan in just under forty nine hours. At this time, you may unfasten your seatbelts and enable your worldnet devices. Cabin out."  
  
Griffith's smile - his eyes closed, and no teeth showing - was serene.  
  
Hayate's frown twitched.  
  
"Warrant Officer..." Her syllables were stretched out, strained between clenched teeth.  
  
"Yes, Major?" Not a single facet of his expression changed.  
  
"Your timing is..." she sighed, rubbing her temples. "Right, we should probably go over it. Schwertkreuz, bring up the file that Griffith sent me three weeks ago."  
  
The device floated up from around her neck, drifting lazily to the table that had risen from the floor. It laid itself down upon it's cross, and from the center a holographic image sprang up, displaying an inbox filled with messages from her various conquests - all insisting that they could not live (or, in four cases involving AI, function) without her - with a few documents from Nanoha, Fate or her subordinates nestled in between. The window scrolled down, attempting to find something from Griffith.  
  
-My Lord- the Cross intoned -There is 1 file matching descriptor: From Warrant Officer Griffith Lowran; Three Weeks Previous. My Lord has not read this document. Would you like to open the file Yes/No?-  
  
Griffith's smile remained serene, and as she scratched the back of her head in embarrassment, Hayate wondered if Nanoha had been giving him lessons on intimidation. "Yeah... let's do that."  
  
Words taking shape in gold-yellow light were flashed upon her retina, disseminating the details of her new command far more swiftly than ink and paper reading would have been able to do. Hayate frowned as she went deeper into the details of the document - this couldn't be right. Q-class vessels were research ships, unarmed to the point of needing an escort just to keep pirates off of them. Sure, it was partially an exploratory mission, and the Q-class did have the highest top speed in the fleet - they topped out at .31C, faster than the next fastest D-Class's .29C - but their acceleration and maneuverability were lousy, and they'd crash if they tried to enter atmosphere with it.  
  
"You know," she said, "this isn't exactly what I had in mind when I said anti-logia mobile strike force." She took a look at the ship itself - a twenty year old rust bucket with a lot of History behind her, sure, but Yuuno had a point in taking it off the Library's roster. "They're giving us a _saucer_ , Griffith. A _flying saucer_."  
  
She snorted. "Since when did abducting cows for research have anything to do with the threat of Lost Logia?"  
  
"Terran bovines make excellent medical test subjects, from what I've read," Griffith deadpanned. "Those abductions saved more lives over the past fifty years than any anti-logia team would. Have Schwertkreuz bring up a 'gram of the retrofit. I think you'll find that they've done a bit more to the _Empirical Evidence_ than slap on a new coat of paint, Major."  
  
Hayate nodded at the pendant, and a holographic projection of the ship popped up. Hayate blinked.  
  
Then she blinked again.  
  
Then she rubbed her eyes and gave it a third, fourth, and fifth go, just to be sure her eyes weren't lying to her.  
  
To Griffith, a man born and bred on Mid-Childa, it was simply a refit of the rather simply designed Q class - two engines and a shuttle bay attached to the frame of the iconic disk that all research vessels were built around. It's central ion drive was removed, freeing up a bit more room for living space, and there were only three laboratories - two arcanics, one split between biochemical and medical - from the original _Empirical Evidence_ 's nine. Having been nearly 70% bigger than the next largest in it's class, with this expansion the _Evidence_ had become more a mobile arcology than a proper ship. The twin nacelle's, oversized and glowing blue, seemed less an aesthetic choice and more evidence that the project was bootstrapped together in the past year since the 'Warp Drive' was invented.  
  
To Hayate, who was born on Earth and for the most part self raised on science fiction and anime, it was perfect. Closer to the NX-01 than the NCC-1701 to be sure, but that was _most definitely_ a Federation Vessel.  
  
"What's she named, Schwertkreuz?"  
  
-My Lord, the ship designation is EX-DN0075-1, DXV [Unnamed], formerly Q-IL0054-1, DRV _Empirical Evidence_. Would you like to know more Yes/No?-  
  
"No thank you, Schwertkreuz." Hayate leaned back into her chair. "I take it that's one of the reasons we're heading up, Lowran?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes, Major. If you had actually read the report-" she glared at him, but his serene smile was back in full "-you'd know that the ship's rechristening is in seventy-two hours. You should probably spend the trip up thinking on a name." His smile grew wider. "And whose going to make up your bridge. They want her out exploring the galaxy no more than a week after the bottle's broken."  
  
Hayate already had the dossiers opened on seven candidates, and was typing up the letters of invitation.  
  
"Schwertkreuz, make a local copy of my collection of Star Trek." She paused, her hands stopped tapping the air as she was forced to make a decision that she'd rather not. "The Original Series takes priority, followed by The Next Generation. The movies - including 2009, 2013 and the evens - have preference over Deep Space Nine. Scrap Voyager and the mistake if you need to."  
  
-At once, My Lord-  
  
"So." Griffith sighed. "You can't fit your work on him, but he's got room enough for your entertainment. Typical, really." He had to remind himself - this is why he was here; he kept priorities straight for her, so she didn't have to. "Dare I ask?"  
  
"Required viewing." She staccatoed, now focused on her task at hand. "I want you halfway through the first series by the time we reach Port Crannagan, and finished with it by the maiden voyage."  
  
"And the reason behind this is...?" He trailed off, wondering not for the first time what he did to get stuck with the manic.  
  
"Because, Mr. Lowran." Her eyes lit up with that same light she gets when she tries to make him model her outfits for Lucino. A cold shiver ran down his spine from the implications. "By the time you're done with that, you will know why this starship is going to be named _Enterprise_."


	2. The Council and the Christening

In downtown Crannagan, on the corner Fourth and Brennen, there was a small little coffee shop named "Durian's Café," owned and operated by Durian III Granz, the grandson of the shop's original proprietor. While it did not get nearly as much business as the major chains, its small customer base was exceedingly loyal, and had among its number such esteemed military personnel as Colonel Genya Nakajima and Lieutenant General Regius Gaiz. It had been throughout its existence the site of much of the TSAB's history - it was there that the High Council first convened, penning out the first documents that would go on to be the foundation of Bureau Law; it was there that they brought Midget, Leone, and Largo, to teach their protégé's their vision of the Bureau's future; and it was there that the three of them came, every day past their retirement, to discuss the foolishness of youth and the wisdom of the elderly. Indeed, the café was so central to the foundation and shaping of the TSAB that the original Durian Granz was often joked to be the Council's Fourth Member.   
  
But one would be foolish to think that it's importance has faded with the passage of time.   
  
Beyond the soft yellow lighting, past the overstuffed armchairs and tables carved from real wood, on the back wall of the refrigeration room at the end of the kitchen, there was if you felt for it a tiny pin meant to scrape off a sample of skin from those who touched it. If you were not one of three people, and were just an employee moving things around in search for eggs or cold cuts, nothing would happen and you could go about your day. If, however, your were Durian III Granz, Lieutenant General Regius Gaiz, or Specialist Innette Pomfei, a hole would open up in the wall, revealing an elevator that would take you two and a half kilometers below the surface to a grandiose cavern filled with computers and life support equipment. At the center of the cavern, upon a platform separating it from the tangle of wires, were three tubes three meters in height filled with a semi gelatinous green liquid, each holding a brain and it's connected nervous system.   
  
All of whom, at the moment, were caught in a panic - a sight which brought forth the first smile to grace Due's face since her family left her behind.   
  
"How did this happen?" the baritone voice of the brain of Markz demanded of it's fellows. "This project was meant to be top secret! Topper than top secret! Bonnie Jamisen level clearance authorization only! How in Segbrecht's name were _reporters_ allowed in to record this?"   
  
The brain of Ellip sighed, though just how the disembodied brain managed to do it without lungs was something that to this day eluded Due. "Perhaps young Largo thought that his protégé deserved some recognition for her endeavors." She coughed. Perhaps they lived out their lives in emulated bodies and pretended they weren't brains in jars. Due filed that away for something to check into when she went over Innette's memories again. "We weren't above doing the same for them back in the day."   
  
"No," came the tenor growl of brain of Praqi. "They have not yet grown so bold. Whether or not they appreciate our efforts on their behalf, the children know that what we deem classified should remain so, for the good of the Bureau. The only logical conclusion is that somewhere with our ranks, we have a leak."   
  
Praqi was right, of course; Due had been the one who had altered the files regarding the Deep Space Exploration project to be open to the public knowledge. It was about time one of her father's inventions could be put to use for the good of the people and the benefit of society, even if the credit for it went to this "Zefram Cochrane" character. She'd almost pity poor Auris for having to take the fall - Due _had_ delivered the files to her sealed, encrypted, and in dead tree format. Such a shame that her device failed to read those few critical lines at the top because of a scripting error, and too bad that the files were immediately shredded, the digitals published to the appropriate channels.   
  
But not really.   
  
"Oh but they have grown so bold, my friend." The brain of Markz seemed to bubble with frustration. "This is simply the latest example of their impiety. Need I remind you that it was Leone who was responsible for the blasphemy of the Testarossa Act? Without his continued support, that _thing_ would have been laughed off its podium for even suggesting that 'she' or that 'poor boy' were anything but weapons to be pointed at the Bureau's enemies." The words reverberated through its speakers like the foulest of curses. "Artificial Magi's Rights my nonexistent ass. Ten years down the line we'll regret having let the children take those girls under their wings. Two barbarians from 97 and a living weapon - the next 'leaders' of the bureau. A trio of savages who know _nothing_ of Mid-Childan tradition, ready and poised to tear down everything we've built up."   
  
"But did we not do the same with them, Markz?" Ellip chimed. "Were not Midget, Largo, and Leone chosen for the selfsame reason? Three powerful children from three backwater systems - well perhaps not backwater, but Zestos, Prakato, and Fedikia were hardly the center of Belkan civilization. Chose precisely _because_ they had not the traditions and customs that lead to the Unification War, so they would not repeat it when we were gone."   
  
The brain of Praqi could not emote physically, but anger was there in his voice. "Perhaps that was the problem, Ellip. Perhaps it was our mistake to let those who could never understand the destruction we are trying to prevent take the reigns." He paused for a moment. "The most logical conclusion is that we learn from our mistake, and prevent the children from repeating it."   
  
Silence overtook the cavern. Such delightful silence, in Due's mind, a silence that she would love to ensure is never again broken. And she could do it, right here, right now - all she had to do was let the Liar's Mask fall, extend her talons and strike at the vulnerable flesh within the tubes. She could even return up the elevator as normal, and none would know that "Innette" was a traitor for another week and a half, when Gaiz was due to descend again to report his futile attempts to locate her father. It would be so easy...   
  
Her knuckles cracked as she stretched her claws behind her back.   
  
But she had her orders from father - she was to be his eyes and ears in Crannagan, keeping a close watch upon his enemies, nothing more, nothing less. Being his dagger could wait for a more strategic time, to knock the family's foes into disarray.   
  
"Specialist Pomfei." Due had to hold back a glare when she looked to the brain of Markz. "Play the christening of the _Enterprise_ over again, if you would. All feeds."   
  
"Of course, sir." There were other things she'd rather do with her right hand than press the illusory keys, but she was too well place to compromise her position.   
  
Addressing the other brains, he continued. "There must be a way that we can spin this to our advantage. We simply need to look for it."   
  
Five hundred screens for five hundred news feeds popped up, each displaying a brown haired woman in military dress, standing at a podium before an audience of near a thousand commissioned naval officers and hundreds of reporters and civilians. Flanking her were some of the most decorated Admirals in the Bureau - Fleet Admiral Largo Kiel, Admiral George Hammond, and Vice Admiral Lindy Harlaown. Behind her, the steel silhouette of the EX-DN0075-01, the disk that was once the DRV Empirical Evidence now matched in length by the first Warp Five capable engines the Bureau's scientists could design. And then her speech began.   
  
\---   
  
If there was one thing about being a commissioned officer in the Bureau's armed forces that Hayate hated, it was the fact that every now and then, she was expected to get up behind a podium and give a speech. She Hated speeches, both listening to them and giving them, capital H fully intended. When she was giving a speech, she felt like she was lying through her teeth about the subject no matter how truthful she was in her opinions and the facts. When she was listening to a speech, well, let's just say that she was glad the cameras were all on Admiral Hammond at the moment. She was also glad to be seated next to Admiral Harlaown, who had the good courtesy to elbow her in the side every time she started to doze off. Hayate knew from all the photos Shamal and Signum had of her and Vita that she was adorable when she was asleep, and Hayate would be damned if she didn't exemplify all of the traits of the best Captain of the _USS Enterprise_.   
  
Neither Kirk nor Picard were cute, dammit!   
  
"-and now that those little technical details are out of the way for the eggheads out there-" Those in the crowd whom had managed to stay awake through the speech chuckled sleepily at the understatement. Admiral Hammond was as renowned an arcanist as he was a strategist, and he had just given a thirty three minute dissertation on why the Warp Engines on the refitted Evidence worked. "-I think it's about time this here ship get's a name. So without any further ado, why don't I pass the podium along to the Commanding Officer of this fine vessel, Captain Yagami Hayate."   
  
Right, that was something she'd need to get used to; old Hammond had greeted her right off the _Sword_ with her new rank and commission, a pay grade up and transferred from the ground forces to the Dimensional Navy. It felt somewhat odd to be addressed as Captain again, given that she had been promoted from Captain to Major just last year.   
  
"Thank you Admiral Hammond." She shook the man's hand, and he clapped her on the shoulder. And then she stepped up to the podium and looked out into the crowd.   
  
Thirty six hundred eyes and the blinking light of five hundred dedicated recording devices stared back, locked on her. Which was good - she always liked to be the center of attention.   
  
"Space is the final frontier." She began. "And since well before the Bureau existed, humans have been slowly opening it up. The first orbital craft those many centuries ago became the first ships to travel between worlds; then came spacelifts and spaceports, to take us out of our mother world's gravitic embrace and free us from the shackles of Atomski and Kepler. The plethora of the multiverse became open first to Al-Hazred and its quiet research colonies. Then Belka took hold of this technology, and spread it and humanity throughout the Dimensional sea. And now we of the Bureau have inherited man's great diaspora, and are preparing to take the next steps forward.   
  
"There are millions of people in Administrated space that have never set foot upon a planet's surface, and billions who grew up on a world that never evolved life beyond the most simple plants and animals. Yet for all that we have expanded cross time in such a swift pace, our progress to cross the emptiness of space has been slow, little more than a crawl. Fewer than a million people are split between Mid-Childa's three moons, and fewer than a hundred thousand people spread throughout the other three inner planets. Just two months ago we achieved the major accomplishment of sending a mage into orbit around Jove, and from what I've seen, the pictures of the giant world are stunning.   
  
"But the EX-DN0075-01 will be something more. It will be the first in a line of ships that can cross the vast distances between the stars in a matter of days and hours instead of decades and years. A trip to the nearest star will be shorter than taking a spacelift up to port. The EX class of ships represent as much a gateway into unexplored territory to us today as the original spellwork that opened up the dimensional sea. I am reminded by it of tales from my childhood on UA0097, tales regarding the captain and crew of a similar vessel, and their journey through the unknown reaches of the cosmos. It is for these tales that I name this ship: the _DXV Enterprise_."   
  
Underneath the podium, Hayate tapped a space upon the false wood that had been programmed into Schwertkreuz. In lines of pale blue fire, the name of the ship wrote itself across the top and sides of the disk, before settling down into a script of blue-black paint.   
  
"A week from today, the men and women of the _DXV Enterprise_ will depart upon a five year tour of local space. Our mission statement: to contain the threat of extrasolar logia, to explore strange new worlds, to seek out intelligent life and alien civilizations. To boldly go where no mage has gone before."   
  
Hayate grinned as the crowd applauded. She had always wanted to say that.


End file.
